“I know,” I said, still looking at my battered hands. “I suppose I can forgive you.” A bleak attempt at humor, but it was a start, and some of the worry cleared from Bastian’s eyes.
“Shower,” he insisted. “Right now. I can’t take another minute of seeing you covered in dirt and blood.”
“You can’t stand it?” I replied, my face too tight to smile.
“No, I can’t. Into the shower. I have a clean shirt you can wear. I didn’t think to bring—”
“Hush,” I told him. “One of your shirts will be…lovely.”
He settled me into the shower, and I had half a mind to ask him to join me, but we never would have fit. There was a moment of panic when he shut the door, then I stepped under the steaming spray. Reddish-brown water swirled down the drain, and I stood there until it was clear, scrubbing my hair, then running the suds over my body until I was reasonably clean.
His shirt was soft, expensive and hung well below my knees. I had to roll the sleeves up, but a minute later I stepped out of the shower, toweling my hair. “Your turn.”
Forge wasn’t in there nearly as long as I was, and I teased him about being a tree-hugging water conservationist when he emerged wrapped in nothing but a towel, steam misting the air.
Do you know what I need?
Clothes? I teased again. I did feel better, after sleep and a shower. Fragile still, but not quite so…breakable. Forge didn’t have a mark on him, except for a slightly pink line on his side. The same side that had been drenched in blood earlier.
What is that? A bit of shock colored my words.
Knife wound. It’s almost gone.
I shook my head at the utter craziness of that statement. Is this my new life? I wondered, knowing he could hear me. Wanting him to hear me. Will it always be like this?
No. His flat denial bolstered me up. Our lives… He corrected himself, Your life will be whatever you want it to be. You just have to decide what you want.
He watched me carefully from the other side of the cabin, making no move to come closer. Giving me time, and space, to decide what I wanted for myself. But I already knew. I’d wanted Bastian Forge since the day we’d met. No. I’d wanted him for years now, and I had him, right in front of me, wrapped in nothing but a towel.
You, Bastian. I want you.
In a second he had me backed up to the wall, devouring my lips, his hands roving over me like he was afraid I’d disappear. His kiss turned gentle before he pulled away to look me in the eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I made a mistake, leaving. I should have listened to you.”
His eyes widened slightly.
“Yes, I know. Admitting I screwed up is a big step for me. Don’t make it weird.” I rose on my toes and kissed him softly. “Don’t get used to it, either. Because it doesn’t happen very often.”
He chuffed out a laugh, and then took my lips in another searing kiss that left us both breathing hard, my hands loosening the towel, which fell to the floor at our feet. He was warm—from the shower—I realized, and it was such a novelty that I couldn’t stop touching him.
“The pilot…” I whispered, running my hands up and down his torso, skimming the pink scar, the edge of it slightly raised.
Another of those low, teasing laughs I was growing to love. “He’s flying the plane, Selena, not worrying about what we’re doing. But if it would make you feel better, we can move this to the bedroom.”
“The bedroom, then.” I stroked his lower back, then drifted my hands to his ass. His laugh turned deeper, with a hint of a growl at the end as we slowly made our way to the bedroom, my hands—and his—in constant movement.
The bedroom door was a tight fit, but we managed, squeezing through, our lips fused together, his shirt hiked well above my hips, hopefully not flashing the pilot. Who should be concentrating on flying the plane, I reminded myself hazily. Being with Bastian, having his hands on me, his lips on mine, messed with my ability to think. So much so that it was another minute before I remembered he was deliciously naked, and I was…nearly there myself.
Bastian’s lips fell from my mouth and skimmed my throat, his teeth nipping at my collarbone, before he paused, then sank them in, the sharp nip making my pussy wetter than it had ever been before. Ferocious heat gathered in my core, the kind I knew would coil and tighten before it released. The more Bastian’s teeth grazed my skin, leaving trails of pebbled skin in their wake, the more I knew I wanted to know what they felt like when they sank into me.
He really was a drug, I thought foggily—he was a drug and I was addicted and didn’t even care. He fell backward on the bed, taking me down with him, not breaking contact. One quick move and he was on top of me, his thigh parting my legs, completely exposing me. I eyed his fangs and pleasure shuddered through me. I turned my head to the column of my throat was exposed to him.
Is that really what you want, Selena?
Oh shit, I’d been so into this I’d totally forgotten the whole I’m in your head part of our relationship. He cupped my face, tipping it back to he could clearly see me.
If it is…I’ve wanted to taste you for days.
His tone, as always, was neutral, leaving me to make the choice. It would have been easier for him to take control, but leaving me the choice…
Yes, I thought. I want your teeth in me the same time your cock is.
Where that bold statement came from, I wasn’t sure, but tonight, I wanted all of Bastian Forge. I wanted his ferocity; I wanted his intelligence and his humor. I wanted to drink whisky together and talk about malting and fly to Scotland with him.
God help me, but I wanted it all.
You have me, love. All of me, for as long as you want.
His eyes flashed as he said it, his face turning leaner, the angles sharper. In return, I spread my legs and bared my throat to him, my hands lightly resting on his shoulders. Will it hurt? I wondered, his hips settling between my legs, his cock pressing against my clit, the hot, grinding pressure inside me ramping up inside as he moved against me.
No.
Keeping up the slow rubbing, he unbuttoned the shirt, exposing me inches at a time, until it fell open. I knew what I must look like right now: my hair a wet tumble of snarls, my face bruised, nothing to my name at the moment, not even clothes. But I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was how Bastian looked at me, reverence in his face as he reached down and cupped my breast, his thumb teasing circles around my nipple.
“Please…” I begged, writhing against him as my aching need grew more intense.
“I’ve got you, love.”
I really, really liked that.
“Tonight, I’ll give you everything you need.”
Sliding his hand down my body, he positioned himself at my entrance, rubbing the head of his cock in my slippery folds, finally notching himself into the opening, then pushing slowly in, filling me up. My hips jerked up, impaling him even deeper, as I clutched his shoulders.
He lowered his mouth to my throat, licking a path from my jaw to my collarbone, then did it again, leaving my skin cold and sensitive. His mouth closed over my throat, then there was a warm rush as he fed—no pain; not so much as a needle prick. I turned my head further, giving him more access, feeling like I wanted him to have every part of me tonight.
Anesthetic in my fangs. Particular to some of the old Scottish clans.
I like the way it feels.
I did. Bastian’s slow pulls at my throat kept in perfect time with him plunging into me; the sensation of him taking and giving at the same time was a heady aphrodisiac. My inner muscles bore down on his cock, the pressure almost too much as he slowly moved in and out, each stroke driving me higher, my hearing muffled, my fingers digging into his muscles as he rode me relentlessly.
This was what I’d craved, this out-of-control, on-the-edge-of-the-world-about-to-plunge feeling. My orgasm hit me out of nowhere, muscles spasming helplessly, as Bastian licked my neck again and picked up the pace a
s he fucked me. This one went on forever, until my legs cramped and my head was about to explode and every muscle in me felt tight and loose at the same time.
With a low growl, Bastian dipped his head and pounded into me, sparing nothing as he came, hot liquid coating my pussy, the insides of my thighs and the bottom of my stomach.
He dropped his head to the curve of my shoulder and collapsed, both of us panting.
There was no doubt about it: I was totally and completely in love with Bastian Forge.
And that was before we moved on to round two.
Epilogue
I rose up on my toes and waved to Bastian over the huge, boisterous whisky-drinking crowd, just as Seamus swept in from the side, looking like something out of a fairy tale. He’d opted for bright green attire tonight, from his hat to his shoes, making him look like a drunken, shiny leprechaun.
Bastian and I were in green as well, my lover’s kilt a sedate plaid, my dress solid emerald, but the swath of plaid across my shoulder matching his. When Bastian reached me, he took my hand, grinning at Seamus until I kicked his shin.
“You look…festive tonight, Seamus,” Bastian said, trying not to laugh. He looks like a rabid leprechaun.
Stop it, Bastian. He’s so happy to be here. As am I.
“It’s the final night,” Seamus said. “Of course I look festive. Had to get prettied up if I was to hold a candle to you two.”
Glasgow’s Annual Whisky Faire offered a wide assortment of scotch whiskies, from newly bottled blends to vintages a hundred years old. Part of me wished we hadn’t drunk Ambrose’s last bottle, but that couldn’t be helped.
Besides, we were just here to have fun.
The crowd parted as a huge pair of shoulders appeared, Cade’s glowering face looming above them as he joined us. “Bunch of worthless humans,” he growled, leaning in for effect. “Drinking all the whisky.”
“It’s a whisky tasting, Cade,” I said. “That’s why they’re here.”
True to form, Cade ignored me and instead gave Seamus’s green suit a withering look.
“Don’t be thinking you’re all that high and mighty,” Seamus informed him haughtily. “I’ve been coming here for forty years. They love me.” Indeed, if one more person slapped him on the back, his dinner would probably come up.
Seamus set his hands on his satin-green hips. “I know a guy who knows a guy who can get us a bottle of McCallan. Fifty years old. Are you in?”
“Fuck yes,” Cade said, loudly enough that most of the attendees in our vicinity turned around. Once they took in the sheer size of the vampire, they discreetly turned away. Seamus led the way, Cade bringing up the rear, and I breathed a sigh of relief as the crowd swallowed them up.
“Do you really think inviting Cade her was a good idea?” I asked, watching him vanish. “I don’t want this lovely event to turn into anything…bloody.”
“He’ll be fine, Selena,” Bastian assured me, taking my hand and pressing a warm kiss to my palm, his tongue making a warm, wet circle against my skin. My toes curled in my Blahnik stilettoes.
“How much longer are we staying, again?”
“A few more minutes should do it, love.”
The last night always ended with some big industry announcement, but looking at Bastian in his kilt, I’d already decided I could read about it tomorrow. “Let’s go back to the hotel. Seamus can tell us about it over breakfast. If he remembers.”
“We’re staying,” Bastian told me firmly, wrapping his arms around my waist. “You never know when you might hear something that will change your life.”
“I’ve had enough life-changing events this year, thank you very much.”
But the past six months had been extraordinary. Between the Langston-Forge distillery and the Cameron Distillery in Perth, we’d spent most of the time flying back and forth across the Atlantic, balancing work with lots of play. Lots and lots of it.
My toes did the curling thing again.
Holloway’s faculties were intact, and thankfully he didn’t remember his kidnapping or the subsequent meeting with the Elder. We didn’t talk about Brandon, and I’d almost put the ordeal behind me, except for the occasional times it popped up out of nowhere.
Forge was always there for me. Always. As if he knew exactly what was going through my head, and how to help me. Closing my eyes, I leaned back into him, my steady rock that would always be there.
“Here we go,” Forge whispered, his breath tickling my ear. From across the room there was a shout, and a bright green arm with a dram shot into the air.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending the fiftieth whisky faire in Glasgow.” When the crowd died down, he went on. “This year we have a special announcement. Two distilleries, one in America, and one here in Scotland, will be merging. We will have a tasting of their flagship whisky tonight, enough for everyone, and it’s on the house.” The roar of the crowd welled up as my intuition tingled.
“What did you do, Forge?” I said over my shoulder.
“I’m back to Forge now, am I?”
“Yes, you are. What did you do?”
“I filed paperwork to make us the first transcontinental whisky business, the oldest American distillery.” He kissed the top of my head. “And the oldest Scottish one.”
The announcer hushed the crowd. “This is Alex’s final batch, and tonight, he will be honored by those who best appreciate his work.” The master of ceremonies lifted his glass high in the air, and the rest of the crowd followed suit. “To Alexander Langston, one of the world’s finest distillers, and a legend in his own right.”
Then I couldn’t see a thing as the room went blurry.
“Ach, don’t cry, love.” Forge murmured in my ear while he gathered me close. “Your da was all that and more. But I have a feeling that Selena Langston of Langston-Cameron distilleries is about to make her own mark on the world.”
If you enjoyed Devil’s Cut, check out
The Banished Gods Series
ALSO BY L.A. MCGINNIS:
The Banished Gods series:
Queen of Swords
The Moon
The Priestess
Death’s Daughter
The Lovers
The Tower
The World
The Mage Circle Trilogy:
Seacursed
Bloodcursed
Demoncursed
Holy City Vampires:
Shadows of Ghosts
Unrequited Heart
Echoes of Time (fall 2020)
Devil's Cut: Immortal Keeper Vampire Paranormal Romance Series Page 17
